


Afterlife

by Hope



Category: Lord of the Rings - Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, Interspecies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-06-08
Updated: 2002-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-03 11:18:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hope/pseuds/Hope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gandalf and Frodo have a discussion.  Set in Minas Tirith during RotK. This fits in with the "<a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/18680">Keep It Safe</a>" continuum, so therefore ER (established relationship).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterlife

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sarz for the inspiring feedback and angst-encouragement.

"Gandalf?" The soft voice was accompanied by a tentative knock, and the door creaked open slowly.

The wizard woke with a start and squinted against the wedge of dim light streaming through the partly-open door. He glanced to where he had left the candle - now an uneven pool of white marred by a streak of blackened wick - and sighed. Raising a hand numb with sleep, Gandalf pressed fingers against his eyelids, brilliant colours blossoming at the pressure.

"Sorry, I thought you were still awake . . ."

"No! No," Gandalf said hastily half pushing himself up and blinking at the dark and rapidly retreating figure in the doorway. "I ought to have been, but I must have drifted off." He glanced down at the book I his lap, then carefully closed it before placing it by the remains of the candle. "What is it, Frodo? Is everything alright?"

"Oh . . . Yes, everything's fine . . . Nothing's wrong. I just thought-" Frodo paused, and Gandalf's eyes adjusted enough to see the play of light in the fine strands of his hair as he bowed his head. "Never mind. Sorry to disturb you." He started to pull the door closed.

"Frodo."

The hobbit paused. Only a sliver of light spilt into the room now, Frodo's presence revealed through a slightly shifting strip of black.

"Have we changed so much that we can't even speak to eachother any more?" The wizard's tone was light, teasing.

"No . . ." Frodo replied softly, the door opening once more. He stepped tentatively inside and stopped, a small, dark silhouette against the yellow light. "I-"

Gandalf smiled, lifting up the edge of the blanket closest to Frodo and raising an eyebrow. Frodo hesitated, then shut the door carefully and padded over to the bed, heaving himself up and allowing Gandalf to settled the blankets back around him.

Starlight breathed into the room through a window facing the West, a cool contrast to the yellow glare of the light that had spilled through the door. Frodo's skin was almost blue in this light, his nightshirt a luminescent white, hair and lashes coal-dark. His eyes glittered, staring up at the ceiling as his chest rose and fell softly and his hands played with the edge of the coverlet.

"What is troubling you, my dear hobbit?" Gandalf queried softly, settling himself on his side facing Frodo.

Frodo closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "Nothing," he said eventually, opening his eyes and turning to mirror the wizard's pose. "Aren't I allowed to seek you out for intelligent conversation at 3 o'clock in the morning?" He smiled wryly, absently shifting his hand to where Gandalf's rested between them, stroking it softly.

Gandalf lifted his hand, palm outwards, and Frodo pressed his against it; an old game - palm to palm, finger to finger. The tips of Frodo's fingers - slender, white - barely came to Gandalf's second knuckles.

"Maybe we haven't changed so much," Frodo mused, eyes fixed on the inaccurately mirrored hands swaying gently between them. "But we are still different as ever."

"But that has always been the case."

Frodo lowered his hand. "I suppose," he breathed, laying it flat on the Gandalf's bearded jawline and pausing for an instant before moving in and pressing his lips to the wizard's.

"*Hmm*," he hummed softly, withdrawing after a few moments. Gandalf's hand stroked down his spine evenly. Frodo frowned a little, then shifted his hands to the wizard's shoulders, pushing him gently onto his back before descending again, this time open-mouthed.

Gandalf slid his arms carefully around Frodo's slight figure, his caresses tender in comparison to their warring lips, teeth, tongues. Gandalf's hands stroked down further, and Frodo, gasping for breath, rose to kneel and lifted his arms, allowing the wizard to draw his nightshirt up and over his head in one swift motion. Gandalf discarded the garment and drew Frodo down again, large, gnarled hands cupping the fragile shoulder blades.

Not breaking the kiss, Frodo fumbled one-handedly with the buttons at the front of Gandalf's shirt, struggling with only four fingers and making a small noise of impatience before slipping one cool hand in to stroke the wizard's chest softly. He shifted a little, slinging a leg over Gandalf's waist and curling his free arm around Gandalf's neck, pressing himself closer. Gandalf shuddered, and Frodo tilted his head a little, deepening the kiss as Gandalf pushed his mouth up against him. Frodo shifted his leg a little, the back of his thigh pressing against the growing hardness at the wizard's groin.

"Frodo," groaned Gandalf as they parted for breath, sliding down to mouth the column of Frodo's throat even as his hands slid down to grip Frodo's hips. Frodo sighed impatiently and pushed against the wizard's waist urgently, but -

"It's no use," he mumbled, abruptly pushing himself away from the wizard's body, rolling over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling again.

Startled, the wizard pushed himself up onto one elbow, panting for breath. "What's no use?"

"This." Frodo gestured vaguely, then dropped his hands to his sides again, clenching them into fists. "It isn't working. I can't do it."

Gandalf softened, leaning in closer and stroking Frodo's face tenderly. "Of course you can. It's just that we're moving too fast. You've been ill. Here, let me . . ." He shifted closer again, lowering his mouth to Frodo's neck, kissing slowly, gently along one elegant collarbone, then sliding down to lick at a dark nipple. It hardened at it's wet exposure to the cool night air, and Gandalf kissed it tenderly, his fingers settling between Frodo's too-prominent ribs.

"No, I--" Gandalf looked up in surprise at Frodo's strained tone; the hobbit's eyes were squeezed closed, his brow furrowed and teeth clenched. Abruptly Frodo pushed himself up again, this time swinging his legs over the edge of the bed in one violent movement. He stopped just a suddenly and his shoulders slumped, head dropping as he raised a hand to rub at his eyes harshly.

Frodo expelled his breath in a long sigh of exasperation. "It's not that. I . . . I can't even . . ." He made another vague gesture, an up-and-down motion near his groin.

"Oh Frodo," Gandalf murmured, sliding across the bed but hesitating to touch the hobbit.

"There's nothing left, Gandalf," Frodo whispered, not turning around. "It's taken everything." He was very still.

Gandalf raised his hands again, resting them on the tense shoulders and rubbing softly.

"Will I never heal?" Frodo's voice was small, wavering and echoing in the dark room. Gandalf didn't answer, and Frodo shivered, then reached up and gripped the wizard's right hand, drawing it down in front of him.

Gandalf hid his surprise as Frodo sighed, stroking the ring finger before brushing his lips chastely across Narya.

"You know," Frodo murmured, his voice thick as he combed his fingers through Gandalf's. "When I first woke up, after . . ." he paused, took a deep breath. "When I first woke up in the Field of Cormallen, and saw you there above me, all white, I thought . . ." He swallowed, then laughed softly, briefly. "I thought I was dead. I thought *we* were dead, you and I, and that we were in the afterlife. In paradise."

Gandalf lowered his head to Frodo's shoulder, wrapping his arms around the hobbit and drawing him close.

Frodo didn't respond to the movement, his eyes remaining closed, head bowed. "Where shall I find rest?"

**Author's Note:**

> http://hopeful-fiction.livejournal.com/2021.html


End file.
